We dress ourselves in an outfit that our memory shows we’re most familiar with. A very large red shirt, blue jeans, very clean footwear, and gold jewelry around our neck and on our fingers. These clothes seem to sag pretty heavily, and it’s hard to walk around without our pants falling down, but this is what we’re best known to wear. If we’re going onto a stage in front of people, we may want to be in the most identifiable attire. We aren’t comfortable in this, but from what our mind is telling us, this is what the people expect.

We begin feeling dread as we approach the exit to our house. We had never driven a vehicle before. Will we be fine to do so? As we open the door, we see a man standing at the bottom of the staircase next to a rather lavish vehicle in a suit. “Good morning, Mr. Jackson. I’m here to take you to the theatre.” This individual is called a… chauffeur. A person who’s profession involves taking people from one location to another. Similar to a taxi driver, but considered of a more respectable suit.

We walk down the stairs to the individual. Do we… pay him? We had no idea they were going to be here so he may have already received compensation. We’ll simply be kind and see if this changes anything. We raise our hand to shake his. “Thank you very much for the ride.” we say to the individual. They look at us with a confused look for a moment. They give a little smile as they grab our hand and shake it. “Absolutely, sir. Thank you for your service.” The individual walks over to the other side of the vehicle, holding it open for us as we enter. They rush back to the driver side and quickly enter as well.

We drive around a circular road wrapped around a large fountain and exit from an opened gate. We look outside through the window of the vehicle. This location seems quite heavy with traffic. There are many buildings, vehicles, and people. This is drastically different than our previous lives. As we approach the location, our stomach begins feeling strange. Our mind is conflicting us, telling us to perform while also telling us to flee. This is what they call… anxiety. According to our mind, this is common for us to feel before a performance in front of others.

“Don’t worry, sir. You’ll do fine.” The chauffeur says to us as he notices us rubbing our stomach. This must not be their first time carrying us to a location like this. Why do we not recall this individual then? We arrive at our destination. It’s a large structure with an electronic announcement board that says “THE KING’S THREE X JACK SIN LIVE TONIGHT!!!” The King’s Three… we know nothing of their music. Jack Sin is our performer name. A catchy spin on our last name. We step out of the vehicle. “Don’t worry, sir! We’ll be here waiting for you after the show!” the chauffeur says.

We turn back to them. “Thank you.” We say to the individual. They seem to have an odd expression once again. Am I not behaving as this mortal once did? This is how we appear to speak in our mind. Regardless, we’ve arrived at our destination. We stand at the doorway, attempting to gather our nerve to enter. We inhale deeply, then exhale. We raise our hand to reach for the door. Suddenly, the door swings open and our manager steps outside. “Hey! You made it! Come on in! The band wants to test a couple of melodies and see what works best with us!”

This person… Keith… they seem so energetic and confident in their movements. This is what we should strive to do. We walk through the theatre and into a room in the back of a dimly-lit path. Keith opens the door. Light pours out into the dark hallway. We see the three individuals part of the group “The King’s Three” sitting around in a particularly comfortable way. They look at us with uninterested expressions. Keith begins listing them as he gives brief descriptions of the individuals.

They first point to a thin individual with longer black hair. His clothing looks tight on his body with an image of a logo for their band that shows three knights in front of a crown. “This is Malcolm! He’s the singer and lead guitar!” Malcolm raises his hand as if to give an unenthusiastic wave. “Sup?” Before we could respond, Keith began introducing us to the next person. Seemingly younger than the others, they’re shorter than the other two. They’re wearing tattered clothing and have long, messy hair, as if they don’t care about their outward appearance. “This is Tony! He’s the bass player!” Tony simply flicks his head up in a quick nodding fashion. “Hey.”

Keith points to the last individual. This one seems the most well dressed with a plain black shirt and black jeans. They’re hair is also black, but it’s shorter cut. They’re build is muscular compared to the other two. “This is Austin, the drummer.” They look at us, raising their hand. “Yo.” Three very different individuals, yet very similar. We feel like we’re going to be out of our element during this event. “Hi. I’m Andrew Jackson, or Jack Sin. It’s nice to meet you.”

The three look at us in a strange manner. “I thought he’d be a little more…” Tony begins to say before cutting himself off. Keith steps in to speak on my behalf. “He’s just working off a party night! He’s a lot more docile when he’s got a hangover!” “That’s not what I’ve heard.” Says Malcolm. According to our memory, we are quite irritable when we’ve been drinking. Keith must be lying for us since he wants this interaction to work smoothly.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I just received the phone call about this a couple hours ago, so I wasn’t prepared.” We…guess this isn’t lying? I suppose when we received this message, we weren’t alive. “Either way, we gotta find a couple songs you can add some lyrics to. Wanna go over a few?” Malcolm seems like he’s willing to make this work out. We hope we don’t disappoint anyone…